


Looking

by SnowyOwl102



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst, Himbo Energy, Mand'alor, Post-Season/Series 02, Slow Burn, The Darksaber, hating the empire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:08:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28614870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyOwl102/pseuds/SnowyOwl102
Summary: Once the door has closed behind the Jedi, his droid, and Grogu, Din finds another had opened. Will he accept his role as the Mand'alor? Or, with the help of a silver-skinned mechanic, will he find a way to pass on this new responsibility.
Kudos: 28





	1. The Takeover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din starts life again after delivering Grogu to the Jedi.

The elevator door closed, leaving Grogu, the Jedi, and his droid, out of sight. The blinking lights were the only thing to move; the control room was completely still. The only noise to echo through the grey and glass confines of the room was the bleeping of the elevator buttons and the minute whirring of control panels. The whole room was still. Din wasn’t sure how long it was before she spoke. “Will you be joining us?”

Din blinked before wiping his eyes and turning to face her. “Can’t you take the sabre? No one will know.” Her gaze fell to the floor, her red hair swept at her cheeks.  
“I’ll know, and as you aren’t my enemy it wouldn’t be right for me to fight you for it. So, vod, will you be joining us?”

She had spoken the word through gritted teeth, but she’d still said it; ‘vod’, brother. The weight of the question grew heavy in his mind, but he knew, with the child gone and his creed broken, he’d have to find something to do. Something to fill the void that he could already feel, gnawing at his throat, straining his breath. After a moment he looked to her and nodded, firmly. “I am willing to help any way I can.”

Bo-Katan let a small smile tug at her lips. This wasn’t how she imagined she’d take back Mandalore, but it was better than not trying at all. “Good”, she said, pausing for a moment before turning to Cara and Fennec. “I imagine both of you have other matters to attend.”

“I have duties on Navarro”, said Cara, “Plus, someone has to hand this guy over to the New Republic.” She prodded the unconscious Moff Gideon, who was sprawled on the control room floor, with her foot.

“Boba and I have many jobs to deal with, though I’m sure you’ll find us if you need us”, said Fennec, directing her last statement to Din. With that, both women left the control room. Cara dragging the Moff by the ankles with one hand, holding her dual cannon blaster in the other. Fennec followed shortly after, scoped rifle in hand.

Not soon after, the much-missed form of the Slave I jumped from hyperspace and flew past the control room windows, heading for one of the docking bays at the rear of the light cruiser. Koska busied herself with sorting through weaponry the imps were considerably useless with. She made piles of blasters, some small, some large, and a smaller pile of batons and knives. Some of the weaponry could certainly be repurposed. Bo-Katan found work in checking through the ship’s various security cameras, noting anywhere with a considerable number of casualties for clean-up. 

Din stood, rather useless, in the middle of the room. He was used to taking orders, to an extent, not creating them. Or at least have a general task to maintain. Protect the child, and return it to the jedi. Now, all that remained on his mental checklist was one thing, help reclaim Mandalore. Needless to say, he felt lost. 

It took a moment of him standing there, stilled by his confused daze, before the idea struck him. “I’m going to check the hangar, take some inventory." Bo-Katan hummed in response, acknowledging his statement without looking away from her task. 

With that, Din turned, leaving the control room for the partially clouded hallway, following where he’d seen Cara and Fennec walk moments prior. He was almost shocked to see no sign of them. He wondered why he thought they’d stick around. They cared about the child almost as much as he had, why would they have stayed knowing he was in safe hands; returned to the Jedi. 

After letting the wave of realisation wash over him, Din began taking a mental note of the cargo stored in a room to the left of the hangar. He pried open unlabeled boxes and crates, memorising the contents before sealing them again. There were enough weapons here for a small army. They were lucky they chose to attack now rather than later, he thought as he shifted through the space between packed crates. 

As he made his way to the back of the crates, he noticed it. A small box, red and wooden. It didn't look particularly special, which is what made it so noticeable. Every other box was imperial grey, sleek, neatly packed. This box looked worn, a flap of beige cloth peeked from under the lid, specks of flaking paint littered the smooth grey box it was sat atop of. 

Din approached it, unsure how cautious he needed to be. The ragged nature of the box reminded him of when he first found Grogu. The egg shaped pram was flaking, much like the box, cloth obstructing it slightly. Carefully, he lifted the lid of the box, to be met with something he never thought he'd see. The box was packed to the brim with Beskar ingots, marked with the Empire’s insignia. Din almost started to wonder why Moff Gideon had so much of the precious metal, until he remembered that the Moff had no use for it now. But his tribe…

A sudden wave of nausea hit him as he was suddenly reminded of his helmetless state. His creed was broken. He had no tribe anymore. The thought alone pained him greatly, but it was nothing compared to all that had happened. First the Razor Crest, now the child. He took a moment, leaning against the sleek, imperial crates, taking the few moments to breathe. Once he’d recollected his nerves, he shut the box lid and carried it back through the crates, deciding Bo-Katan should be the one to decide the use of the metal. 

He edged around the tattered remains of the dark troopers, remaining cautious after his last encounter. When he entered the control room Bo-Katan and Koska looked up from a map they had up on the table. “What did you find?” Bo-Katan questioned, looking him in the eyes. 

It took Din a second to answer, forgetting his helmet still sat on the floor. “Weapons. Blasters, enough for multiple platoons.” He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze before he realised why she was still looking. Placing the box on the table, he pushed it towards the two. “and Beskar. Unless you know an armourer, it's useless.” 

The two women stared at the gleaming, silver-black ingots, quickly noticing the Imperial symbol in the corner of each bar. “These were stolen in the purge”, Bo-Katan stated. Her eyes went dark for a second before she looked up at Din. “Now they will help us fight for our cause.” 

Koska nodded, Din mirrored her movement soon after. A brief pause hushed the room before Bo-Katan returned the ingots to their box, closing the creaking lid to cover them. “See if you can find the kitchens. The crew was small but they needed to eat. We need to inventory all our supplies.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the first chaoter of this fic. I have the next few planned out but am still working out how im going to end it all (there should be at least 25 chapters to this story).
> 
> If you enjoyed it or found any mistakes/incnsistencies please let me know through the comments. I haven't seen the clone wars series so it is likely my version of Bo-Katan will be a bit off. Also feel free to share your thoughts and feeling on characters or plot events. 
> 
> Hope to see you all soon in the next update, where i'll be introducing my OC, to continue the story :)  
> -Ellis


	2. The Mechanic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An introduction to Kelsa (OC) on what they deemed the 'worst day of their life'. Little do they know someone is about to crash into their life, but is it for the better or for worse?

This was easily the worst day of their life. Getting fired, after all the work they’d put in, was just the icing on the multi-layered cake. Now they were jobless, and soon-to-be homeless. 

It had been a rough morning. To kick it all off, Kelsa had woken up late. The squealing alarm had been thrown across the room in a sleep-hazed effort for more rest, which enacted a domino effect on the rest of their day. They were eventually woken by the grunts of a Bantha who had been thoughtlessly directed down the narrow alley that ran behind Kelsa’s apartment. The rude awakening caused them to hurry their preparations for work, which they were now sure they’d be late for.

They made their way to the ‘fresher, pulling a dark t-shirt over their head as they walked through the door. They ran the tap for a few seconds. Giving it time to heat up. When they went to wet their hands and wash their face they found themselves drawing their hand back sharply. It was still ice cold. It was then that they remembered they hadn’t paid their heating yet. Great. 

Trying their luck in the kitchen, they opened the cooler to find it completely empty. Not even mold had found a place in the chilled box. Lacing up their boots and donning their dark jacket, they locked up their apartment before heading to work. They made a quick stop at the store between their work and home but, as they were late, they had sold out of anything fresh. There were no quick snacks they could grab either, so they made their way to work, hungry, tired and defeated.

Once they eventually made it to work they got berated by their boss, despite trying their hardest to avoid him. Luckily, Merak, the owner of the repairs company, only issued a few harsh words, warning Kelsa to be on time else they might find themselves “sold to someplace unpleasant”. Relatively unphased by the treat, Kelsa made their way to the front desk to clock in before making their way to the workshop.

No work had come about yet that morning, other than a beaten up land speeder which was already being taken care of. Kelsa took their regular seat in the control booth at the back of workshop L4. Lights for tool use and power regulators flashed lazily in front of them. Like any other day, they waited. 

When the Imperial transport shuttle had landed it had caught the attention of just about everyone. Word had spread throughout the systems, the empire had wormed its way back. It almost made sense that they’d turn up here, a planet of sympathisers and beneficiaries, Kelsa wasn’t surprised, per se, but they didn’t expect the empire to be so blatant in their appearance here. 

The wings of the transporter rose as it landed, letting out a slight huff as it righted itself on the workshop floor. Kelsa couldn’t quite believe it was real. Until, that is, four stormtroopers exited the shuttle, surrounding an officer clad in a grey uniform. The officer approached Merak, who soon gestured to Kelsa, as well as two other mechanics. 

But Kelsa didn’t move from their stool in the control center of the workshop. As soon as they saw the white armour, that excuse for a uniform, their stomach began to churn. They remembered the days they’d spent training, preparation to prove themselves if their planet was ever taken over by stronger forces. Imperial forces. 

They remained in the booth, unmoving, eyes focused on the movements of the imps, wary of every step they made. It wasn’t until Merak’s voice boomed through the door of the control booth. “Hamal, are you going to work on the shuttle or not?”  
The question buzzed in their head, before they were aware it had been asked they’d answered, “No.”  
“No? First you’re late and now you refuse to work. You’re too much hassle Hamal. Get out and don’t come back.”

Before Kelsa could fully comprehend what had just happened, they were outside the workshop, bag of tools in hand, walking to the outskirts of the town. They decided to keep walking, toeing the town’s edge as they cleared their head, the contents of their bag clinking occasionally. 

How had they managed to screw up so quickly? It had taken some time to bargain for their position in Merak’s workshop, despite their skill and aptitude, and now it was gone. They avoided the imminent spiral of worry, opting instead to focus their attention on a sizable black rock, which they began to kick along their path. 

They took in the air as they walked, the weight of the tool bag on their shoulder, the prattling of the black rock they kicked with their feet. The dark earth crushed beneath their feet, their hands sitting comfortably in their jacket pockets. The clawing of some creature scratched behind them, but they kept walking, looking to the ground, and kicking the rock.

They weren’t sure how far they’d gone before they heard it, the gentle purr of a ship’s engine. It didn’t concern them, the town saw many visitors. Until it started sputtering. They looked towards the sound to find a rather beaten up shuttle. One engine kept reigniting, huffs of black smoke escaping from behind it. A metallic rattling rang through the air as it shuddered closer to the ground. A small red panel hit the ground, along with a few shards of what they assumed was glass, before the ship came down to land. It bounced off the ground before settling with a painful crunch. 

Kelsa’s mechanic heart ached slightly at the sight. This type of shuttle didn’t look expensive, but it did look old. It’d be considered a classic if any care was put into maintaining it. Sadly, it didn’t look as though the owner cared enough to fix the glaring issues, let alone the minor scrapes. They were sure they could fix at least four major breaks there and then with what tools they had on hand. An idea sprang to mind as they stopped a few meters short of the shuttle.

They doubted the shuttle would be able to take off after a landing like that. Parts of the ship were darkened with scorch marks from the uneven entry to the planet’s atmosphere, other areas were completely obliterated from the landing. From where they stood, Kelsa could see enough potential repairs to last them the next few months, and that was without the labor costs. 

They watched with a critical eye as the shuttle door opened. They couldn’t help but think, who in their right mind would fly something this broken? Well, they were about to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this chapter! If you did please leave kudos or a comment to let me know. It's a great feeling seeing a new notification in my inbox knowing someone has read my work and actually enjoyed it!
> 
> As always, feel free to share your thoughts/feelings/opinions or theories in the comments, or in my ask box on tumblr, @fanboy-sloth. 
> 
> The third chapter is already finished, but I'm wanting to stagger my updates so expect to see it in about a weeks time. I'm currently starting to work on Chapter 4 which will be an interesting one.
> 
> Many thanks to my favourite He/They for beta reading this fic! <3
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has read/enjoyed the story so far, will see you in the next one!  
> -Ellis


	3. The Next Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our two protagonists strike a deal

Kelsa found they had to squint for a moment as a mirrored surface reflected the minimal sunlight. They watched what appeared to be a metal clad being exit the shuttle from the starboard side of the ship. Kelsa almost laughed as the figure attempted to close the door of the shuttle, giving it a testing kick when the door wouldn’t close. Shaking their head, the figure left the door open and made their way over to the gawking mechanic. 

Kelsa wasn’t sure how long they’d been staring at the figure, who was covered from head to toe in what looked like Mandalorian armour. Unpainted Mandalorian armour. Kelsa could tell it was worth a fortune, despite knowing next to nothing about armour pricing. The figure stood in front of Kelsa, the helmet tilting down before the T-shaped visor sat to look at them. The look spurred Kelsa out of their dumbfounded silence. 

“Nice armour”, they said. The person in front of them didn’t move, the visor kept a fixed gaze. “That shuttle could do with some repairs”, Kelsa said, remembering their jobless state.   
“That it could”, the figure agreed. His voice came out rasped but not in a natural way. Kelsa guessed there was some kind of filtering system built into the helmet. It must have intricate wiring to fit in such a small space, they thought. 

Realising the conversation hadn’t continued, Kelsa spoke again. “I can fix it up, get it ready to fly again. I’m assuming you’re passing through?”  
The figure nodded before stating, “I’m here for supplies”.   
“Town’s that way”, Kelsa said, pointing behind them, “I can fix up your ship while you’re gone. You might want to take some of that armour off though, before someone else does.”  
“I wouldn’t like your chances if you tried”, the armoured voice said.

Kelsa took a moment to process the threat. “No, no no you’re mistaken. I’m not- I would never- I don’t-.” The figure cocked their helmet to the left slightly, but Kelsa was still reeling from the misinterpretation. 

They took a step back, a necessary precaution, as they attempted to clarify their point. They took a moment to breathe before continuing. “What I meant is that there are people here that aren’t as… friendly as me. There’s talk of the empire making a new establishment here. So… I think, at least, it’d be wise.. for you to...leave the armour behind?”

The figure seemed to contemplate the statement. Kelsa almost started talking again at the lack of visible movement, but before they could embarrass themselves further, the figure removed his helmet. 

Kelsa wasn’t sure what they were expecting. Maybe someone well kempt, due to the undoubtedly expensive state of the armour. Then they remembered the state of the shuttle, and their surprise lessened. The face of a tired looking man met Kelsa’s gaze. Creasing lines sat under his deep, brown eyes. His mess of dark hair, now freed from the helmet, sprawled in numerous directions. Kelsa wondered how long he’d wear the helmet for at one time. 

The man closed his eyes briefly. A pained look on his face, before he let out a breath and walked back to the crushed shuttled. Kelsa waited as the man removed his armour, going inside the ship to store it. As he walked back to where they were standing, Kelsa couldn't help but notice how much smaller the man looked without his armour.

“Town’s this way?” the man asked. Kelsa nodded. The man began to walk, but turned around after a few steps. “Just get her flying, as soon as you can. I won't take long in town.” Kelsa made a mental note and watched as the man walked away. 

Once there was a decent distance between them Kelsa turned to the ship, lowering their tool bag to drop it by the door. The sound of exposed electrics crackled somewhere in the ship’s hull. They decided to run a quick test on the ship’s systems; they could priorities effectively if they knew what was broken. 

They stepped through the broken door, making a mental note to repair it before the man returned, and found their way to the cockpit. They noticed something silvery peeking from under a dark sheet that covered one of the two passenger seats. Upon closer inspection they noticed it was the armour the man was wearing moments ago. 

Before replacing the sheet over the armour, they noticed a symbol on what they thought to be a shoulder piece. Some sort of horned creature. Something about it seemed familiar, but they couldn’t quite place where or why.

Sheet back in place, Kelsa sat in the single pilot’s seat, the ripped cover almost touching the floor, and started to flick switches and press buttons. A faulty holographic display showed them the ship’s list of priorities. They decided to ignore what the computer deemed the “most important” areas of repair. Kelsa knew which systems were vital for takeoff to even become a possibility, those would be where their attention was focused. 

They stepped back outside the ship and began to work on the failing engine. If they wanted the ship to fly, that would be a good place to start. After patching up the engine as best as they could they stepped around the shuttle, looking for any cracks in the hull. After welding a few fallen panels into place, they returned to the faulty door. This was going to be a weighty task.

Returning to the inside of the shuttle, Kelsa looked through the various shelves and cupboards in the main compartment. They had all the spare circuits to patch the faulty mechanism, now all they needed was something to grease the locks and a small and pointed tool to clear out any debris that might interfere with the airlock. As they rummaged through the different storage spaces, they managed to find an aged tin of greaser. Now all they needed was something with a pointed end.

Making their way back to the cockpit they noticed something hanging over the edge of the second passenger seat. An arrowhead- no. A spearhead. They might struggle to balance it but it would do. Returning to the door they cracked open the panel hiding the wiring. Two broken fuses; they could fix that. 

It didn't take them long to rewire the electronic components, or to smear the greaser, which happened to be an alarming shade of neon yellow, into the lock hinges. Now all that was left was to clear the debris and the shuttle would be ready to fly. The spear end made a satisfying twanging sound as it bumped into the door-frame. After a few minutes they’d managed to clear the mechanisms completely. They tested the door a few times, trying out the secondary lock while they were there. Both were perfectly functional. 

They returned the greaser to the junk drawer they’d found it in before storing their tools back in their bag. They sighed to themselves in frustration. They’d left their welding tool outside, and likely still running. They made their way out but as they did they noticed the man making his way over a nearby ridge. The bag at his side seemed almost overflowing with supplies. Something about his movements seemed strange. He was running.

After a moment the man started waving his arms, yelling at them to “Get on the ship, we gotta go!”

Kelsa hurried round the back of the ship to retrieve their welding tool, the flame boring into the ground. They disconnected it from its fuel supply before grabbing hold of both items and half-sprinting back to the other side of the shuttle.

When they got back to the now fixed door they noticed three others, one of which had a blaster drawn. They waited just inside the door, hoping the panels were thick enough to provide cover if shots started being fired. They closed the door swiftly once the man’s feet entered the main compartment. As it shut the telltale sound of blaster charges rang throughout the hull, luckily it didn’t breach any of the metal panels.

The man’s supplies thudded to the floor as he made his way to the cockpit, Kelsa joining him, returning the spear to its place on the seat. “Who were they? Why were they chasing you?” Kelsa questioned, their panic obvious. The man calmly readied the shuttle, starting up the engines and beginning to move it off the ground.   
“Long story”, the man replied briefly, “Though I’m sure i’ll have time to explain later. You want another job?”

Kelsa nodded, before realising the man’s attention was focused on driving the shuttle.   
“Yes”, they answered, “though there isn’t much left in the way of repairs for this ship.”  
The man chuckled lightly as he increased the ship’s speed, Kelsa was surprised about how it had managed to break up so much when he drove it so gently.   
“Don’t worry too much about that. This job’ll have you set for a while.”

With that their conversation came to an end, both sat quietly in the cockpit, the rest of the shuttle remained completely silent. Once they had breached the planet’s atmosphere, they began to head towards the smaller of two moons. They had been flying for some time before they started to round behind it. 

What Kelsa saw rooted them in their seat, the shock was almost overwhelming. Their morning started with refusing to work on an Imperial transport shuttle, but now they were faced with this. An Imperial Light-cruiser sat in the moon's shadow. What made it worse was that they were driving directly towards it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi, sorry this update was late (i usually update this on thursdays). Hope you enjoyed this chapter, i spent ages on it to get it right. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Expect a bit of a wait for chapter 4, i'm still planning out the rest of this fic and chapter 4 will determine the direction i'll take it in. 
> 
> But yeaaaaaaaah, here's number 3 :)


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